


Dangerous

by bakudei



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, also slight ooc-ness on Itachi's part, and is my first legit Naruto fic, gah I'm scared sfjhddgh, this was for a writing prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 04:37:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15065267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bakudei/pseuds/bakudei
Summary: Inspired by Prompt #925 from @writers-are-writers on Tumblr. Takes place directly after Itachi has defeated Deidara and caused him to join the Akatsuki.





	Dangerous

**Author's Note:**

> This is uhh  
> kind of a drabble? idk if it makes sense I just wanted to try writing based off of a prompt so I hope it's any good

**_Prompt #925_ **

 

“He’s just a kid.”

“A very dangerous kid who could probably kill us all.”

 

Kisame sent a dubious glance in the direction of his longtime partner as the reply left said partner’s mouth. Even Hiruko somehow seemed to look disbelieving (no telling just how Sasori managed to make his puppet appear expressive at times).

But Itachi was sure of what he had said.

“Come on, Itachi, you saw how simple it was to slip him into your genjutsu. He didn't even notice that anything was going on! A naive kid like that couldn't possibly pose a threat.” The shark laughed, seeming to think that Itachi was joking, messing around somehow...but he had forgotten that Itachi never joked.

 

The raven cast a glance backward, deeper into the cave in which they had set up camp for the night, where a certain blond artist was fuming with his back turned. His posture was rigid, but every so often a slight shudder would wrack his frame. It was plain to Itachi that for all his great shows of toughness, he was afraid; afraid of this band of criminals that had snatched him up and forced him to become one of their own. After all, he was still a child. There was none of that deep sorrow in his eyes that would have given him a look of maturity beyond his years; a sorrow that Itachi knew and was all too familiar with.

Yet that was precisely what made him so dangerous.

Itachi had known from the moment he had first met eyes with him that he was capricious and hotheaded, as firey as the explosions he had proudly babbled about for a minute straight. Art, he called it. _Fine_ art. That youthful frame housed an idealist who in his own mind had created a grandiose vision of himself and his technique and was certain that together they were unbeatable.

There was no rhyme or reason behind why he attacked; he had said so himself. Indeed, there was no guarantee that he was not planning right at that very moment to blast them all into oblivion. Something about him was so volatile, so unpredictable...a glorious form of insanity.

It intrigued Itachi in ways that he found nearly frightening.

 

“Don't underestimate him,” he finally stated quietly to his companions, tearing his gaze away from their newest member. “You both know that if he were a weakling, we would never have been sent all this way to recruit him.”

“I still say he's the type to die young.” Sasori's gravelly voice echoed through the cave, and Itachi noted out of the corner of his eye that the boy they were discussing stiffened, his fists clenching as if it were taking all of his willpower to not snap back at them.

 

Deidara, had been his name. It suited him, having a feminine ring that matched his slightly girlish features...although something told Itachi that he would not take such a statement as a compliment.

 

“And _I_ still say he fell too easily for your genjutsu. Maybe once he stops trusting so much in his explosives and focuses on improving in other areas I might take him more seriously.” Kisame hid a yawn with one of his large hands as he gently laid Samehada aside and settled into a reclining position for the night. Meanwhile, Itachi noted that Deidara was now shaking, although whether it was with rage or the cold temperature of the cave was uncertain.

Maybe it was both. The blond, full of anger and humiliation from his recent defeat, had stationed himself far away from the three Akatsuki members that were congregated around the fire they had managed to build and instead chose to steam alone in the distance. He had not spoken to any of them ever since he had let slip earlier in an almost reverent tone that Itachi's Sharingan was _true art_.

Perhaps it was foolhardy, but Itachi felt pity for him. He had spitefully cast aside the Akatsuki cloak they had given him earlier (which had been too large for him anyway, considering that they hadn’t exactly known his measurements beforehand) and the thin tunic he wore was hardly protecting him from the chills that seemed to constantly beset him. Despite knowing full well that it was a bad idea, he approached the younger boy, intending to offer him his own cloak. It was closer to his size than the one that had been given to him, and Itachi could take that one himself.

 

He neared silently and knelt beside him, cloak in hand. The boy stiffened yet again, and this time the shaking he did was definitely rage as he thrust his chin out and turned his face as far away from Itachi as his neck would allow.

Undaunted, Itachi proffered the cloak with the simple word “Cold?”

Deidara’s fists clenched until the knuckles on the hand that the Uchiha could see turned white, but gave no answer.

Itachi was never big on conversation so he remained silent after that, merely laying the cloak gently across Deidara's shoulders before slipping back to join his cohorts around the fire.

 

A few moments passed without any reaction from Deidara, but then suddenly there was a flapping noise and Itachi's cloak came whizzing through the air straight towards the fire.

The blond had had plenty of practice with his explosives and hence his aim was impeccable; only Itachi's swift reflexes saved his cloak from being consumed in the flames. Kisame laughed aloud at the incident, further amused by the slight shock that registered for a moment on the typically stoic face of his partner. “Well what did you expect?” he inquired as Itachi grimly donned the barely singed cloak. “Out of the three of us, you're the one he hates the most right now. Just let him be and go to sleep.”

“He's going to freeze,” the raven objected, stealing a glance at Deidara, who was now desperately trying to keep his shivering under control. Somehow despite not being able to see his face Itachi knew that he was gritting his teeth.

“So let him,” Sasori grumbled, clearly having zero tolerance for Deidara's stubborn behavior. “If he wants to reject what you do for him then there's no helping the brat.”

 

However, despite the protests of the other two Akatsuki members, Itachi again made his way toward the monster further back in the cave.

 

“Deidara,” he said softly, right next to his ear, and the blond shivered again...but this time it was not from the cold and possibly not even from anger. He quickly recovered however and resumed his former position of chin jutted out and face turned away.

“Deidara,” Itachi repeated, settling down next to him, “do you hate me?”

There was a pause as the boy fidgeted slightly. “...Un,” he mumbled fiercely at last, and Itachi wasn't sure if there had been something before that which he hadn't caught or if that was the entire response. In any case, it seemed to be a reply in the affirmative. At least he was speaking to him, however...that was progress.

The plan was to annoy Deidara so much by his presence that he would go and join Kisame and Sasori by the fire just to get away from him, thus getting warmth without sacrificing too much of his pride. It meant that Itachi would be spending the rest of the night in this area instead, however, but somehow he didn't mind. The only problem that nagged at the back of his mind was the very real possibility that Deidara might suddenly decide to blow him up and use his ashes for heat instead. He reminded himself that letting his guard down was not an option.

 

_A very dangerous kid who could probably kill us all._

His own words began to increasingly haunt him as he continued to sit there in complete silence. The ill will that radiated from the boy beside him was practically tangible. To say it was an awkward situation would have been a terrible understatement. “Why do you hate me?” he tried after about another minute had passed.

No answer. The only indication that the blond had heard him was the faint sound of teeth grinding together as Deidara clenched his jaw.

Itachi sighed, although it was barely audible. “If you don't tell me I won't know,” he remarked in an attempt to make the blond speak to him again. That, however, was a lie; he was fully aware of why Deidara was behaving the way he was.

 

When there was still no reply the Uchiha found himself staring at the long golden hair that was so graciously displayed before him, thanks to the way that Deidara was adamantly facing in the opposite direction.  It was beautiful, glistening even in the faintly firelit cavern, and Itachi surmised that Deidara must have spent a lot of time taking care of it for it to look so attractive. He felt the strangest desire...to reach out...and touch it...and although usually he never would have given in to such a thought, he was currently on a mission of sorts and doing this would fit right in to the nature of that mission, so he did.

It felt as lovely as it looked; like silk...and although outwardly Itachi remained as emotionless as ever, internally he felt rather satisfied. When Deidara failed to notice his light touch he threaded his fingers through the flaxen strands and gently tugged, eliciting a soft gasp.

The blond whirled around, finally facing him, all hell flaring up inside his one visible eye. For a moment he sat there, glaring murderously and seemingly deciding what to do before he drew himself up and rose to his feet at last...and proceeded to go deeper into the cave. There, he seated himself again and continued with the sulking routine.

 

Apparently Itachi had underestimated the extent of his pride.

 

He could hear Kisame chuckling in the distance behind him and Sasori grumbling in disgust. Feeling more dejected than he'd thought he would, he reluctantly headed back toward the fire.

“What did I tell you,” Kisame stated, “he's just a kid. He talks big and glares something fierce, but he isn't anything that we can't handle. Quit worrying about him and go to sleep, Itachi.” Sasori grunted by way of agreement, making Hiruko nod firmly.

Itachi did heed the words of his partner, but internally he was even more intrigued. He had seen in that electric blue eye a clear intent to kill...so what had changed the blond’s mind? Why had he just calmly gotten up and moved away without so much as a curse? It didn't make any sense….but then, that was part of what made Deidara so unique, so interesting, so dangerous.

 

As he settled down to sleep, he fancied he could still feel the softness of Deidara's hair against his fingertips.

  


In the darkness of his part of the cave, Deidara bit down on his lower lip, his face contorted with a multitude of emotions and his cheeks thoroughly flushed.


End file.
